


in case god doesn't show

by CitrusVanille



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fix-It of Sorts, Hopeful Ending, Kissing, M/M, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 19:30:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18597919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CitrusVanille/pseuds/CitrusVanille
Summary: It's the night before Endgame.





	in case god doesn't show

**Author's Note:**

> I have not yet seen Endgame, but this ate at my brain until I wrote it. If we all go down, at least we'll do it together.

If Tony had been worried about Nebula getting along with the Survivors – which he hadn’t been, but if he had – he wouldn’t have needed to. The raccoon – Thor calls him Rabbit? – makes a few snide remarks, but that seems to be his default. Everyone else is more than ready to welcome anyone still alive with open arms, and Thor, in particular, seems to put her at ease. They wander off together at some point to talk. Something about Nebula’s sister, and crazy homicidal family members. Tony’s not sure. Next to Thanos and Hela, Tony’s family looks positively ideal. He’d throw Loki in with the crazies, but it sounds like the jury’s out on him. He’s missed a lot.

“It’s down to us,” Natasha had said in the middle of planning.

Clint had rolled his eyes. “It’s always down to us.”

They both look older. Everyone looks older, even Thor, and Tony hadn’t been sure that could happen. Aged with grief. Tony hasn’t looked in a mirror since he’s been back, shies away from reflective surfaces, barely even looks out windows at night. He doesn’t think he’s the only one.

“Can we talk?”

Tony looks up from the glass of Scotch he’s been holding long enough the ice has melted. He’s not sure when he lost track of everyone. He’s pretty sure Bruce and the new woman, Carol, had been sitting next to him on the couch, talking, only moments before, but now Carol’s across the room, deep in conversation with Rhodey, and Bruce is nowhere to be seen. It’s just Steve, hovering in front of him. Cap. Rogers. Tony’s not sure enough of where they stand to know what to call him.

He shrugs like it doesn’t matter, like he hasn’t been hoping and bracing for this since before he knew if Steve had made it through the Snap. “Pull up a couch.”

“I was hoping,” Steve shifts like he’s uncomfortable. “Maybe somewhere else?”

“Do I need the suit?” Tony asks, but he doesn’t mean it. There’s no hostility there that Tony can sense. Hasn’t felt any since he crashed in the field outside. There’s just a background tension there, making the air between them vibrate with a frequency Tony can’t hear. He wonders if Steve can hear it, with his enhanced senses.

The corners of Steve’s mouth twitch, like he’s trying to smile, but doesn’t quite remember how. “Not until tomorrow,” he says.

“Right.” Tony heaves himself to his feet and follows Steve out of the room, abandoning his still-full glass on a table as he passes.

They wind up outside, and it’s familiar and not, doing this, the two of them. It’s dark away from the buildings, too far from any city to even get the light pollution that’s so much less now, anyway.

For what feels like a long time, neither of them speaks. Tony doesn’t know what to say. If he did, he wouldn’t have avoided the two of them being alone together this long. Sorry doesn’t cut it, and he’s not sure he is, anyway. But it wasn’t worth it. _That_ he knows with a certainty he can feel in his bones.

“I missed you.” For a minute, Tony doesn’t realize he’s the one who said it, but Steve’s stopped walking, and has turned to stare at him, eyes wide and dark in the shadows around them. May as well go for it, he thinks. It’s probably truer than anything else he could say. “While I was gone, when we thought we were done. I thought about you, and I missed you. But I missed you before that. When you were gone. I didn’t know how to tell you. And that stupid phone –”

“Tony,” Steve reaches out, like he might touch, but pulls back before he can make contact. Steve’s the only person in the complex Tony hasn’t touched since he’s been back. Everyone’s been more tactile than ever, needing to prove to themselves and each other that they’re all here. That Steve hasn’t, that he won’t, hurts in a way Tony doesn’t want to think about. Can’t afford to think about. Or maybe it’s the only thing he should be thinking about.

“You keep doing that,” he says, and is surprised at how angry it sounds. “Are you waiting for an invitation?”

Steve shakes his head, but Tony can’t tell if it’s a denial. “I’m afraid you won’t be there.” Steve’s voice is low, a little strangled. “What if I reach out –” he does, hand hovering about halfway between them, “– and you’re not really there? What if you vanish before I get there?”

Something breaks inside Tony’s chest at the same time he feels something else release. He grabs Steve’s hand out of the air with both of his, and Steve’s sharp inhalation is loud in the stillness. “I’m here,” he says, opens Steve’s fingers from the fist he’s made to press his palm hard against the center of his chest, right over the arc reactor hidden under his clothes. “I’m real. I’m solid. We both are. Feel it?”

“I feel it.” Steve’s voice is soft, but clear. He’s staring at his hand, fingertips curling in just a little like he’s trying to hold on. “I feel it.” He looks up, then, motion almost sharp, and meets Tony’s eyes. Tony can’t read his face in the dark, but Steve doesn’t seem to have the same trouble. “I missed you, too,” he says, and kisses him.

The moment hangs, stretches out, snaps, and Tony pushes forward, kisses back. This is what he wanted to say.

Tony gets both hands in Steve’s hair, holds him close. Steve has one hand high on Tony’s shoulder, sliding higher, thumb sweeping the soft skin under Tony’s jaw, tilting Tony’s head where he wants it. The hand he’d had over Tony’s heart has slipped down and around to the small of Tony’s back, pulling him in.

It lasts forever and no time at all. They part to breathe, but don’t separate more than a few inches, foreheads together, breathing the same air.

“If it all goes to hell tomorrow, I didn’t want missing this to be another regret,” Steve’s voice is a rumble through both of them. “I couldn’t not know,” he breaks off, tries again, “I needed you to know,” he gives up, rocks his head back and forth against Tony’s like he’s shaking it.

“I know,” Tony tells him, firm as he can. He opens his eyes. From this close, he can see every one of Steve’s eyelashes, fanned against his cheeks. He tips his chin, presses a light, chaste kiss to Steve’s lips. “If we do this right tomorrow, if this works, afterwards, we will sit and figure this,” he gives a little tug to Steve’s hair, “out. But if it doesn’t –” he hates even saying it, they’ve all been pointedly not allowing the possibility of disaster. Further disaster. He swallows. “If it doesn’t, no more regrets.”

Steve nods, pulls back a scant few inches, and opens his eyes. “Stay with me tonight?” he asks.

“They couldn’t pry me away with a crowbar,” Tony tells him, tightens his grip so Steve knows he’s not joking.

“Good,” Steve whispers, and leans in to kiss him again.

**Author's Note:**

> dr mrvl, thnks fr th mmrs.


End file.
